


Honey, I can't sleep

by heizl



Series: Marvel One Shots [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Insomniac Tony Stark, One Shot, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 09:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16930914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heizl/pseuds/heizl
Summary: Tony's always been the one to have an overactive imagination. Thinks too much, can't power down at night. Doesn't even feel like he needs to sleep, in the first place. And so, he doesn't. What he does do instead— he tinkers.It's not uncommon that Tony would go days without sleeping, or even eating or doing much other than running around his workshop like wild all day long. But, now with three days behind him since his last siesta, Jarvis decides to take power over the situation and forces Tony to sleep for his own best interest.





	Honey, I can't sleep

 

* * *

 

Five thirty in the morning on the fourth of January, but it'd been at  _least_  (and, a very loose "at least") three days since Tony last laid his head down for more than five minutes. His brain had been shooting off idea after idea, and so he'd kept himself cooped up in his work space with his trusty Keurig and a 12-pack of instant noodles. Had reservations for dinner last night with Pepper, but he'd called up Happy and asked him to go with her instead.

 

Oh, he  _knew_  he was being an asshole and this definitely led to another hot-headed fight that lasted over an hour between the two, but it's not like he could just cut the wires in his mind and get his thoughts to stop racing. Seriously, he tried,  _many_  times. Made a headset in attempts to soothe his constant worries and stresses about literally nothing, but, eh. Turned out to be another glorified version of Jarvis — and if we're being honest, Jarvis was much better at soothing Tony than whatever half-assed AI he'd made.

 

Tony was lounging back in his chair, foot pushed up against his desk as he rocked himself, back and forth, back and forth. He was half-consciously swiveling himself around as he took a swig of Pepsi; already had five cups of coffee within the past couple of hours, he wanted to mix it up a bit. Plus, he'd been nursing a massive headache... probably from all the caffeine, which soda had caffeine , yeah. But, it was a better poison right now.

 

The majority of the overhead lights were turned off, the nearest ones above him dimmed the lowest they'd allow. He'd really been relying off of a table top lamp as his main light source. He had to squint to see fine details, but nothing he was making had to be too intricate. His hands just twitched and he felt restless, so he took to building, like he always did. Or, "tinkering" as Pepper called it.

 

First he'd been working on the blueprints for a new design... believe it was mark thirty nine? Maybe forty eight. God, who cares anymore. He lost count ages ago and forgot to update his list; tried to get in the habit of documenting his projects, of what did and didn't work, plus their numbers but that got in the way of actually building. 

 

Wasn't actually a suit for him. No, not Rhodey either. That's right, you guessed it. Pepper— Tony knew he couldn't always be there to protect her, didn't have to either. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, usually was the one looking after Tony himself. See, when you know that there's aliens and mythical beings in there, really makes you question what else is coming. Wanted to make sure they were prepared at all times, couldn't risk anything ever happening to Pepper again.

 

Though, he got sick of sketching pretty quick though and that's when he'd moved onto welding together pieces of left over scrap metal. Made himself a new helmet, tossed it aside before he ever got around to actually painting it. Might go with a "hot rod flame" design, he was thinking. He threw his head back (causing it to pound harder, ouch), groaning under a deep breath. He set his mug down ("I <3 NY" it read, gift from Clint for Christmas) and lazily strolled over to his record player. He'd hauled down a few of his favorite vinyls, stacked them on the floor and was slowly working his way to picked through them. The Clash, good change of mood, good songs to work to.

 

Clapping his hands together, he stifled a yawn into a sigh. He'd been avoiding yawning all night. "Jarvis, buddy. Tell me where we're at. Progress, pronto," he snapped his fingers.

 

"On which file exactly, sir?"

 

"' _SSB x 41.25_  or  _COD x 24.11_ , doesn't matter. Tell me both." Tony gripped and spun his chair around to straddle it, arms folded over the top. He watched as his monitors flicked to life, files popping up on the screen before being minimized. Chrome was immediately started up, directing itself to YouTube. The first video had successfully been uploaded, the second still processing (29%, really?).

 

"If I might add," Tony swiped his finger through the air; his browser shifted to the second screen. Flicking his pointer upwards, his email filled the screen. Flicking a second time opened something from Happy; photo of him and all the Stark Industry employees with Santa hats on, text under it reading, ' _This is the company's Christmas card. Look good, or you want to be in it too?_ '.

 

Jarvis finished, "I don't quite understand how starting a  _gaming channel_  is making good use of your time."

 

"Maybe it's not. Hey, Jarvis, reply with a thumbs up."

 

"An emoticon, or a photo of you, sir?"

 

Tony felt his cheek raise in a lopsided grin as he shrugged to himself. "Go for a photo."

 

"Tell me when."

 

Tony peered into the webcam perched atop his monitor, grinning toothily with both thumbs raised. "Anytime, bud." As soon as the words left his mouth, the screen flickered a bright white. As Jarvis worked on attaching it as a response, Tony's eyes flickered in the furthest corner of the room. The painting directly above it was hanging crooked, so he forced himself up with a crack of his knees, jumping on top of the counter. "But, I'm using it— time, I mean. Better than sitting around and doing nothing."

 

"Is it? I think a bit of rest would serve you well. Also, it's been sent."

 

"Thanks. You'd think that, right? Because people need rest so they can work well, function. Get on with their days," Tony steadied himself back on the ground, dusting off his pants. Sometimes he felt like a cat, prancing around everywhere, especially late at night. "Ironically, for _me_ , I work better when I'm exhausted. So, what're you gonna do."

 

"Sir, have you actually tried to rest?"

 

Tony couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Of course I've tried."

 

"Sitting around and tinkering," there was that word again, "is not trying. Might I suggest turning everything off and heading to bed?"

 

" _No,_ " Tony called out, loud enough that his voice echoed off the walls. He almost felt... scared? Nervous? At those words. The thought of being still sort of terrified him, because that was one of the only things he couldn't do. "No, you might not suggest this, Jarvis. I swear—"

 

But, instead of allowing Tony to make his argument, everything abruptly stopped. First it was his monitors, screens turning black. Before the overhead lights turned off, the hallway lit up, glass door unlocking with a loud click. His desk lamp was second to last, and then, was his record, slowing to an eerie halt.

 

Tony's initial reaction was frustration — not his choice whether Tony stays up for ten days on end or not. But, then that got him thinking. Wasn't that why he made Jarvis in the first place, to always be a step ahead of him and look out for him (and Pepper) when he couldn't himself? He exhaled heavily through his nostrils, snatching up a hoodie that he discarded near a dark red toolbox. Making his way up to the living room, he made a sharp turn, pit stopping in the kitchen. As he reached into the fridge, he heard a loud, "Sir."

 

His heart fluttered in his chest, making him physically grasp himself. With gritted teeth, he murmured, "Jesus. Don't do that."

 

"You're stalling."

 

"So what if I am? You shouldn't care."

 

"You explicitly programmed me to care."

 

He pulled out a carton of leftover Chinese food, rifling around for an accompanying fork. Things like this is what made Tony sometimes regret embedding Jarvis into every port and part of their home. He really  _was_  the man of the house. "While you're right, I'm also hungry. Not allowed to eat either?"

 

Jarvis let out something resembling a sigh. Then, he asked, "While we're stuck here, do you have any requests for music?"

 

Tony almost choked on his rice. "Why? You bored talking to me?"

 

"You do get to be a bit much on occasion."

 

Tony snorted, gesturing loosely with his fork. "Yeah, sure. Put on, uh..." his head cocked, " _Insane in the Membrane_. Suiting."

 

"Yes, very good choice, sir."

 

As soon as the familiar beat-box tune of a genuine classic, and favorite of Tony's, started, he found himself humming along as he poked at a tiny piece of corn. " _Who you tryin' to get crazy with ese? Don't you know I'm loco?_ "

 

"Well aware," Jarvis responded promptly after.

 

As the chorus played out, the song finally came to a finish. Tony had pulled out a second carton, now pushing pieces of cold beef around. "You are, most definitely, stalling. What's on your mind?"

 

"How much time you got?" Tony leaned his hips against the kitchen counter, steadying himself with a hand. He wouldn't admit this, but, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't starting to feel a bit woozy. He could feel the earth spinning under his feet, and sometimes, see flashing colors. You telling me this isn't normal?

 

"I've always been meaning to ask you this," there was a pause, "why is it that you use sarcasm as your clutch?"

 

"Heavy question for," he looked at his watch. Great, an hour and a half since he last checked. "Morning. Uhh, I don't know. Maybe because that's the way my dad always was, and the moments I did get to spend with him, were filled with null conversations and persistent teasing. Grew a taste for that kind of humor, I suppose, not by choice."

 

"So, you're saying that you're becoming your father?"

 

"I'm  _not_ —" Tony nearly spilled his food all over the floor. Setting the carton down before he actually did, he had to take a moment to catch his breath, supporting his weight by his elbows now. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't say that, Jarvis. I'm a hell of a lot better than that good for nothing bastard."

 

"I disagree. From what I've heard about Howard," oh, Tony hated where the direction this conversation was turning. Of course, he had a point and there was more than enough validity to prove Tony completely wrong, but he wanted to deny it. Just like he still lived in denial that his father, did indeed, give a damn about him. "You two act in very similar manners. You dress in the same fashion as your father. Have you realized you've styled your entire look after him? With the beard, I am referring to."

 

Tony looked into their metal toaster, stroking down his facial hair, scratching it a short second later. "Why'd you have to bring that up..."

 

"The subconscious works in mysterious ways."

 

Tony massaged his temples, felt his forehead creasing as he closed his eyes. "It's too early for this."

 

"Oh, and I agree. Now, please, can we get some rest? I am also growing tired."

 

"Tired in general, or tired of me?"

 

"The latter, sir."

 

Tony couldn't help but laugh in defeat. Straightening his posture, he put both boxes back in the fridge (fork included) and begun creeping his way upstairs to their bedroom. He knew Pepper  _actually_  liked her sleep, tried to get to bed at a reasonable hour every night, and so he opened the door as carefully as he could. No creaks.

 

He shifted under their covers, pushing around blankets until she let out a soft sigh, her heavily lidded eyes looking at him. She was peering over her shoulder and that brought another grin to Tony's face.

 

"Go back to bed, honey," Tony shushed against her lips, his arms finding their way around her waist. She wrapped her slender fingers around his wrists, relaxing into his hold. Her voice still sounded sleepy as she asked, "Are you staying?"

 

"Got me all to yourself."

 

"Sir." Jarvis' voice broke the mood; Tony almost questioned if he was hallucinating his voice at the point, but it seemed like Pepper heard it too. At the small risk of seeming crazy (crazier?), he mumbled back, "What's it now, bud?"

 

"You have a meeting with the Senator of State in three hours."

 

"Ah,  _shit_ ," he pushed his forehead into Pepper's hair, groaning. Right, he forgot about that. "Reschedule."

 

"Sir, it's the Sena—"

 

"Doesn't matter if it's the president, Jarvis. Reschedule."

 

"I'll handle it," Pepper said. Tony chuckled, pulling her closer. "You sure? You don't have to do that."

 

"Actually, I do. Since it's, kind of, sort of, my job." One of the reasons why they meshed together so well; same sense of humor, both of them unable to live a life without sarcasm.

 

"Right, Miss—"

 

"CEO of Stark Industries,  _yeah_ ," she finished his sentence.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote for the 30 Day challenge on Marvel Amino. Really liked how this one turned out. Also, first time writing a story solely about Tony! Hope to include him in more stuff in the future. :-)


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